


stop the world (we've places to go)

by jinhoes



Category: Pentagon (Korean Band)
Genre: Apartment AU, M/M, childhood friends to boyfriends, hyojong is loving, idk - Freeform, is that a weird au??, its gold tho, jinho needs a massage, kino and hui only have short appearances, parents can be assholes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 19:33:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9622469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinhoes/pseuds/jinhoes
Summary: Jinho fights to wipe the smile from his face, and by the way that Hyojong’s looking at him, he knows he doesn’t succeed.“You look like you want to kiss me or something,” Hyojong comments, followed by a laugh that comes out more nervous than he intends.Jinho doesn’t deny it, and they both notice.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is the prologue of a series called Cube Creek, the literary child of TJ (@sad_maachine), Pyong (@hongseok), and I. The main pairing is Jindawn, but side pairings include Kihui, ShinWooYu, and YeoYanSeok.
> 
> Some of the ideas in this first part are mine, but many of them belong to Pyong and TJ, so credit goes to them too. I love you guys, thank you for enabling my inspirations and for being so understanding about the lulls in them.
> 
> the title is homage to stop the world by the arctic monkeys
> 
> I hope you enjoy, and anticipate more to come!

Kim Hyojong is six years old when he first meets Jo Jinho, but he thinks that the time before then doesn’t matter nearly as much as the time after. Jinho is seven years old, taller and bigger and talks better and has already lost two teeth, but that doesn’t stop him from making friends with Hyojong. 

 

They meet on the swingsets of the neighborhood playground, a fairly new set with uncomfortably stiff seats and chains that hardly creak. Jinho sits on the swing next to a swinging Hyojong, and the younger boy kicks up the wood chips beneath him to forcibly bring himself to a stop, dirtying his shoes with wet dirt and splinters. They talk about things that Hyojong can’t remember later, things with scattering topics and emotions, but they talk and walk around the playground together for nearly an hour before Jinho has to go home. He drops from where he’s been hanging from the monkey bars to the ground almost two feet below him, and Hyojong’s mouth drops open with awe.

 

That Monday, Hyojong is pulling at the cuffs on his uniform at the bus stop and climbing onto the bus itself, and that’s when he sees Jinho again, sitting towards the middle, alone. He can’t remember seeing him on the bus before, but it’s not incredibly likely that his memory was focused on that anyway, so it’s not the point.

 

He sits down next to Jinho and the older boy looks up from where he’s been looking out the window, mouth forming a small ‘ _ o _ ’ of surprise.

 

“I want to sit with you now,” Hyojong says with a large grin that almost closes his eyes, and Jinho laughs and smiles back.

 

\---

 

It’s been a few weeks since Hyojong and Jinho have met, but it may as well be lifetimes for them at their ages. And today, for the first time, Hyojong is standing in front of Jinho’s house with his uniform wrinkled from a day of wear, and his backpack strung over one shoulder. Jinho takes his hand and pulls him inside.

 

Jinho’s mom, Hyojong thinks, is a pretty woman with very dark hair and nice eyes. She offers them a snack that Jinho turns down to Hyojong’s complete and utter horror, but then he’s being dragged upstairs to Jinho’s room and he can’t make the older boy take it back.

 

Jinho’s house is bigger than his, and his room is cleaner, but it’s also more barren so Hyojong decides he would take his room over Jinho’s any day. He doesn’t say that though, because he’s not a rude kid, and also because Jinho’s room is far from bad.

 

Jinho sits down on his bed and makes it bounce, and Hyojong follows him, sitting down even harder to produce a similar motion. It makes them both laugh for a second before Jinho stands up and throws himself back on the bed with a force that almost throws Hyojong straight off. Hyojong gasps and climbs off, running and diving onto the mattress and hearing the springs creak loudly. It’s not long before they’re jumping up and down on Jinho’s bed, giggling every time the bounces grow bigger and bigger.

 

Jinho’s mom calls his name from downstairs and Jinho gets a sheepish look, leaving the room. Hyojong sits back down and crosses his legs, and when Jinho comes back the older looks annoyed.

 

“My mom says we can’t do that anymore,” he says, lays back down on his bed with a pouting face. Hyojong is disappointed, but Jinho’s quickly back on his feet and showing him the toys he plays with, and the bed is completely forgotten.

 

\---

 

The year of separation where Jinho is in middle school and Hyojong is in primary school is tough, but they still make an effort to see each other a couple times a month and it gets them through until they’re in school together again, even though it’s hard. Whatever distance they may have caused during this time was eliminated almost instantaneously with Hyojong sitting down next to Jinho on the bus and them sharing a grin.

 

In November Hyojong asks Jinho if he can come over after school and Jinho hesitates in a way that confuses Hyojong, because Jinho is always either completely willing or instantly provides the reason why Hyojong can’t.

 

“What’s wrong?” Hyojong asks, speaking as quiet as the din of the cafeteria allows, and Jinho purses his lips before answering.

 

“I got a low mark on my last math assignment,” he says, and Hyojong is a little confused, because Jinho hardly does anything but study as it is, and he can’t even imagine Jinho getting anything less than a 100% on anything he does. “So I don’t think my parents would want me to have anyone over right now.”

 

“How low?” Hyojong asks before he can stop himself, and Jinho chews on the inside of his cheek before answering.

 

“Ninety-two.”

 

Hyojong furrows his brow. “That’s not a bad mark.”

 

“Bad enough,” Jinho says, and shrugs. He lifts his gaze back up to Hyojong and provides a half-smile. “Next week?”

 

And Hyojong is just grateful for the change in atmosphere, so he smiles and nods in agreement. “Next week.”

 

\---

 

Hyojong’s requests to come over get declined more and more as the next two years occur, until he stops asking and just waits for Jinho’s invites, which come about three times a month. It’s often enough that Hyojong can’t really complain, but it’s severely down from the amount that it used to be. 

 

He gets anxious about parting again when Jinho goes to high school and admits this, even though he feels stupid for it. Jinho laughs and calls him an idiot, but in a fond way that holds very little bite, so it’s alright.

 

That year is better than the first year they’d spent apart, because Jinho invites Hyojong to his school events, mainly concerts and dances, and Hyojong goes out of his way to make sure that whenever Jinho is free, he’s spending time with him. Jinho tells him to focus more on his school work but it’s not like Hyojong is failing anything, therefore it’s not important.

 

They have a sleepover during break that ends up lasting two days, and Hyojong gets the feeling that Jinho’s parents are a little sick of him but that’s okay when his presence makes Jinho brighten up more and more as the hours pass. They hang out in Jinho’s room and walk around the neighborhood, gravitating to one spot they both know well.

 

“I haven’t been here in years,” Hyojong says, and grins while his feet kick up wood chips from the ground. The swingset is no longer new, but it’s still in good enough shape that he thinks they can sit on it and not fear for their lives.

 

“Me too,” Jinho says, touching the chains of the swing. He looks up at Hyojong (they had been the same height through their time in middle school, but in the last few months Hyojong had gained a few centimeters on him. He told himself he’d catch up when he hit his own growth spurt).

 

They leave the playground after a few minutes and return to Jinho’s, where they eat dinner and then hide away in Jinho’s room, talking and laughing until midnight and then just laying down in comfortable silence. They can’t quite fit in Jinho’s bed together anymore, but they can squeeze if they sit their heads at separate ends, and so they do.

 

“Jong-ah?” Jinho asks, when it’s been so long that Hyojong had assumed he was asleep. Hyojong hums, signifying he’s still awake and listening, even though he’s practically asleep and barely aware. “Why haven’t we ever been to your house?”

 

It’s a question Hyojong knows has been on Jinho’s mind for years, but neither has acknowledged it. Honestly, Hyojong doubts Jinho would recognize his dad on the streets, he’s seen him so little in the time they’ve known each other. But the answer isn’t that impressive.

 

“I like your house better,” Hyojong admits in a quiet tone, and can feel Jinho sitting up on the other end of the bed. He doesn’t do the same, but he does roll over so he can just barely make out Jinho’s form in the darkened room.

 

“Why?” Jinho asks after a second, and Hyojong’s mind races because he’s not a sap, and he can’t give the answer that pops into his mind, the one that says  _ because it’s yours _ and not something normal or rational.

 

“Your room is nice,” he settles for, lame, and Jinho laughs a little too loud for this time of night. He grins too, because even though Jinho probably doesn’t believe him it’s still good enough to satisfy.

 

“Goodnight,” Jinho says with a very vocal roll of his eyes, laying back down. Hyojong tickles the bottom of Jinho’s foot teasingly before he says, “Goodnight, hyung.”

 

\---

 

Hyojong enters high school the next year and the school is huge, big enough that the only time he sees Jinho is at lunch. They sit together at the same table and complain about teachers and homework and tell funny stories that had happened through the first half of their days. Hyojong is grateful that the distance was so nonexistent this time around.

 

It’s the third time that year that Jinho tells Hyojong that he can’t come over, and Hyojong decides to be rebellious.

 

\---

 

“I can’t believe-”

 

“Are you scared?”

 

A snort, feet rustling against the sidewalk. “My parents will kill me if I get caught.”

 

Hyojong turns and stands in front of Jinho, halting his path. It’s dark out, and the cool night air feels nice against his bare arms. “You can turn and go back right now, if you want to. I’m not forcing you to do anything.”

 

Jinho gives him a look that says he thinks Hyojong is ridiculous. “No way. Let’s go.”

 

Hyojong grins at him and Jinho grins back.

 

The grass is surprisingly chilly under their palms while they lay next to the park, but it’s dry and comfortable to lay back on, looking up at the sky. It’s mostly overcast and there’s nothing interesting to see, but that’s not the point of this excursion.

 

“I can’t believe we actually snuck out,” Jinho says, voice somewhere between awed and amused, and Hyojong shrugs.

 

“I wanted to see you.”

 

“You’re ridiculous,” Jinho says with a laugh, turning his head to look at his friend. Hyojong grins shamelessly. “You can’t handle a week without hanging out?” Hyojong appears to actually consider the question for a second, and Jinho rolls his eyes.

 

“You’re my best friend, asshole,” Hyojong says with a tiny amount of pout on his lips. “I like seeing you.”

 

“That’s how friendship works,” Jinho points out, feeling his hair tangling with the grass and not minding. Because once the anxiety of rebelling wears off, there’s a lightness in his heart that’s freeing in a way he hasn’t felt in years.

 

Hyojong notices, of course. How can he not, when the Jinho looking at him now looks so much different from the one he usually sees, when they’re at school, or around his parents. He wonders suddenly, how often school is on Jinho’s mind.

 

“Are you okay?” Hyojong asks before he can stop himself, the words tumbling out without the hesitation they should come with. Jinho doesn’t look away, but he does purse his lips tighter.

 

Maybe it’s because it’s past midnight; maybe it’s because he feels so open here, under the sky and away from his family. Maybe it’s just because it’s Hyojong. But either way, he feels the urge to answer honestly, and the honest answer is, “I feel really tired, Hyojong.”

 

Hyojong nods, unsurprised. He reaches out his hand and sets it on top of Jinho’s wrist, and curling his fingers and squeezing, and he thinks he doesn’t imagine the way that Jinho deflates at the motion.

 

They don’t talk much more, only laying back and staring up at the dark, cloudy sky, but at some point before they leave their fingers intertwine, and that’s more than okay.

 

\---

 

Jinho gets a job his senior year, working at a local coffee shop within walking distance of both his house and the school. Hyojong doesn’t see him often while he works, and it does take a toll on him, his grades taking a drop until he fails one of his classes, math. When Jinho finds out a few days later, Hyojong is scolded with such a vigor that he makes a promise to try and raise his grades. He succeeds, just barely, but it's enough to make Jinho proud of him and honestly, he can't think of anything better than that.

 

\---

 

Jinho graduates without applying to universities, something that only comes to light to his parents afterward. It's a conversation he had not been looking forward to, but he stands firm on his choice of wanting to keep his job and take a gap year or two for himself, to save money for his own housing and food.

 

His relationship with his parents becomes strained, to say the least, but they don’t kick him out and that's all he needs.

 

\---

 

The front door of the coffeeshop jingles while Jinho stands at the counter, announcing the arrival of another customer. The shop was at the very end of the lull it usually entered right before the high school let out, and the customer was met with no line as he made his way to the counter, a boy wearing shorts even though it was the beginning of October, and a white hoodie that fit long, like he’d bought it a size too large.

 

“What can I get you today?” Jinho asks, hoping his voice doesn’t sound quite as dead as he feels. He can feel the eyes of his coworker on him and he straightens his back so his posture doesn’t resemble that of a debilitated old man.

 

His customer hums and Jinho braces himself for what he’s sure is coming next, looking up and seeing the kid before him wink exaggeratedly before saying, “Your number.”

 

Jinho stares at him, unimpressed, even though on the inside he’s a little amused. “... That was even worse than normal.”

 

Hyojong seems undeterred that his line had failed, and grins. “You’re just no fun,” he says, childish like usual.

 

“Are you going to buy anything?” Jinho asks, tilting his head and giving Hyojong his professional smile, something that makes the younger snort out a laugh.

 

“Yeah, black coffee,” Hyojong says. Jinho can’t help but wrinkle his nose at such a plain order, no matter how many times he hears it, but he rings him up anyway.

 

“Hey,” Jinho says, as Hyojong turns away from the register to leave room for any potential incoming customers. Hyojong nods at him to show Jinho has his attention. “You don’t have to stay until the end of my shift, you know. I’m not out until eight today.”

 

“I don’t have to do anything,” Hyojong says with such a ridiculous smirk on his face that Jinho wants to smack him. It must have showed, because Hyojong laughed. “See you on your break, hyung.”

 

Hyojong does his homework almost every day that Jinho works in the same booth, one to the side and out of the way of other customers. Because he always buys coffee and something or another for dinner (more often than not, Jinho buying Hyojong dinner and forcing him to eat it), his coworkers can’t complain, and Hyojong is polite enough.

 

Jinho slides a sandwich with some kind of meat and cheese across the table to Hyojong at his break, holding one of his own. Hyojong looks up from some kind of worksheet in front of him and smiles in such an open, sweet, friendly way that Jinho feels instantly at home. With the tense atmosphere of his house and the way that his conversations with his parents were near nonexistent, it felt like the only time he felt properly human anymore was when he talked to Hyojong. Honestly though, that’s nothing new.

 

“How did the thing with Kang go?” Jinho asks, lifting up his food and nodding for Hyojong to do the same. The younger gives him an expression that’s in between amused and annoyed, but obeys, talking through a bite.

 

“I told him my printer broke, and he let me turn in the paper late,” he says, and shrugs. “I mean, I figured he would. He’s one of the nicer teachers.”

 

“I know, I had him too,” Jinho reminds Hyojong, leaning back in the booth and lifting his feet to get the blood flowing back into the soles. Standing all day really took a toll on them. Hyojong gave him a sympathetic look.

 

“How’s work?”

 

“I’m tired,” Jinho says, and sees Hyojong tilt his head to show he’s willing to listen to anything Jinho has to say. Jinho shakes his head, not seeing the point in complaining in more detail. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

 

“If you’re sure,” Hyojong says, eyeing Jinho. “Let me know if anyone makes your day bad, I’ll kick their ass.”

 

Jinho snorts, turning his gaze back to his food. “And the bad thing is that I  _ know _ you’re telling the truth. But really, just a normal day of customer service.”

 

“Okay,” says Hyojong with a funny look, one Jinho almost questions, but then Hyojong is telling a story and Jinho loses the thought amidst laughter and amusement.

 

Jinho ends up having to help close, cleaning the back kitchen with another coworker, and so it’s about eight-thirty when he actually ends up finishing. 

 

Hyojong is asleep, an event which must have occurred in the last hour or so because he’d just spoken to him before dealing with the last few customers. He’s curled up in the booth with the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up over his face, arms deep in the front pouch, and mouth open as he breathes lightly in and out. Jinho knows full well that Hyojong is capable of some monster snoring, but he’s not loud now. The kid must have been tired, and Jinho’s heart aches in a very strange way while he looks at him..

 

He kneels down and carefully brushes the bangs out of Hyojong’s face, an odd smile on his lips. It’s enough to rouse him, eyes with long lashes blinking open slowly. He smiles wider, and tucks Hyojong’s stray hairs behind his ear. “Time to go home.”

 

“Carry me,” whines Hyojong, and Jinho laughs.

 

“You’re bigger than me, brat. Get up.”

 

Hyojong and Jinho pack away Hyojong’s things into his backpack and then walk home together, Jinho is his work uniform and Hyojong yawning, overtired from his nap in the coffeeshop. Jinho offers to walk Hyojong to his house first everytime, and everytime Hyojong denies and forces them to walk to Jinho’s first.

 

Jinho tells Hyojong to stay safe and they hug, maybe a little tighter than normal, even though they know they’ll see each other again the next day.

 

\---

 

Jinho and Hyojong start looking for an apartment to share before Hyojong has even finished high school. Jinho’s parents don’t approve, claiming that by settling down nearby he won’t go to a nice enough university, and Jinho neglects to tell them that he isn’t even sure he wants to go to university anytime soon. As for Hyojong’s dad, he has no idea, but it’s apparent from the willingness Hyojong has to move into an apartment with him that his younger friend prefers this.

 

They find one, an apartment that’s so open it’s basically a kitchen and an open floor for everything else. It’s small, but Jinho moves in a few weeks before Hyojong’s graduation, and then Hyojong is there too.

 

They can’t afford heat or to use the water too much, but they have their parents off their backs and Jinho, in particular, considers it a blessing. They have some furniture that they move with, like Jinho’s parents’ old couch and mattresses, enough stuff that the apartment seems full enough. The apartment in the summer is stuffy and hot, but it’s fine really. They live on ramyun and cheap, quick food, and that’s just fine, too.

 

Jinho starts searching for a job that pays better than the coffeeshop and Hyojong gets a minimum wage job at a fast food joint. They often come home at around the same time, smelling like grease and strong coffee, and pass out on the couch together. It’s hell on their backs and necks, but the closeness in welcome in a way that neither of them can quite explain.

 

Jinho manages to get an office job that raises his salary. His parents call him over and over, telling him that that’s not a job that seems temporary, and he hangs up on them every time that they bring it up. He has vague plans to go to college at some point, but for what, he has no idea. He doesn’t see the point of going to college if he isn’t sure on what for. He tells them this and they try to push ideas on him, from doctor to lawyer, and he ignores those too.

 

Hyojong pulls in enough income so that together, paying for rent becomes less of a problem. But they still don’t have enough to run the heat every night, and Jinho sees it as an inevitability when Hyojong wakes up one morning sniffly and feverish.

 

“I’ll call in,” Hyojong says, blinking his eyes and reaching for his phone, but Jinho snatches it before he can.

 

“I’ll call in both of us,” he says, and walks towards the kitchen. Hyojong gapes after him, somewhere between humored and irritated.

 

“I’m not a kid, hyung, I can take care of myself,” he insists, starting after Jinho, but the older is already dialing Hyojong’s work. Hyojong snorts and then coughs, regretting the motion instantly.

 

Jinho ushers Hyojong back to bed with water and medicine and it’s endearing to Hyojong only slightly more than it is annoying.

 

“It’s just a cold,” he protests, wrapping his comforter over his shoulders and going to sit on the couch instead, Jinho trailing behind him like a shadow. “You can go to work.”

 

“I wanted a day off anyway,” Jinho insists, sitting on the cushion across from Hyojong. Hyojong’s hair, bleached blonde a few weeks prior, is a little overgrown and hanging in his face, and his fingers itch to brush it back.

 

“Not much of a day off,” Hyojong points out, curling up comfortably and turning on the TV.

 

“Taking care of you isn’t any different from normal,” Jinho teases, and Hyojong laughs. It’s such a nice sound, one that defines home even when it comes from a sore throat. Hyojong notices Jinho’s smile grow softer and diverts his gaze to the television in hopes that Jinho can’t see the way his cheeks redden in response.

 

Jinho makes ramyun in their tiny kitchen, humming softly to himself. The quiet hums slowly become fully fledged words until he’s singing. Jinho knows full well that his voice is nicer than most, a clear, unbreaking sound. He also knows that Hyojong likes his voice, and therefore has no shame in singing while he cooks.

 

After a few minutes, an out of tune, scratchy voice joins in with him and he stops, lyrics going up an octave in humor and surprise. He hears the amusement in Hyojong’s tone even as he keeps singing and Jinho grins, joining back in. They don’t mesh well, but hearing Hyojong’s unpracticed, whiney style next to his soft and emotional one is amusing, to say the least. He almost burns himself on the pot laughing, but he doesn’t and that’s what really matters.

 

“We should be idols,” Hyojong says when Jinho returns to the couch, two bowls in hand. Jinho shakes his head while Hyojong takes one of them, and Hyojong fixes him with a pouty look. “Why not?”

 

“I can’t dance to save my life,” he says, blowing on his spoon and waiting for it to cool. He points the cutlery in Hyojong’s direction, expression teasing. “And as much as I love listening to you sing, I’m not sure the rest of the world would agree.”

 

Hyojong sniffles and asks, “You love listening to me sing?” and Jinho ignores him.

 

“And I don’t want to spend, like, ten years training to  _ maybe _ debut.”

 

“Think about how much fun it would be, though.” Hyojong has a smile that’s wide and reveals almost all of his teeth. “Performing and travelling and music videos and shit.”

 

“Maybe,” Jinho admits, stirring his bowl even though nothing inside real needs stirring. “My parents would throw a fit.”

 

“Me too, if you left without me,” Hyojong says shamelessly, and Jinho gives him an odd look.

 

“You’re the one who brought it up.”

 

“Nevermind,” Hyojong intervenes, shaking his head, and Jinho blames it on the medicine he’d forced down his throat an hour or so prior. “It’s stupid.”

 

Jinho almost tells him that it isn’t, that it’s cute, but he doesn’t.

 

\---

 

Hyojong switches jobs during spring, finding a job at a local daycare, where the pay is only slightly better but strangely, Hyojong seems so much happier. Jinho isn’t a huge fan of kids, but Hyojong comes home with pictures the kids have drawn him and it’s so incredibly adorable, how he tells Jinho stories about his day and how he starts to collect the drawings in the corner of their apartment, hung up by slivers of tape.

 

Jinho drives one day to pick up Hyojong from work and is greeted by a sight that makes his heart clench in a painfully warm way. The younger is crouching down next to two girls, one talking excitedly and the other nodding like an affirmation, but the expression on Hyojong’s face is so interested and intrigued in whatever she’s saying. Jinho stops breathing for a second, before climbing out of the car as casually as he can manage.

 

He sees Hyojong’s eyes flicker his way, but Hyojong doesn’t move until the girl and her friend are completely done speaking to him. And then, as they run back inside with quiet giggles, he gets to his feet.

 

“Sorry hyung, Jaehee and Somin’s parents didn’t show up, but it’s fine now. I’m good to go.”

 

Jinho fights to wipe the smile from his face, and by the way that Hyojong’s looking at him, he knows he doesn’t succeed.

 

“You look like you want to kiss me or something,” Hyojong comments, followed by a laugh that comes out more nervous than he intends. 

 

Jinho doesn’t deny it, and they both notice.

 

\---

 

Steady income proves itself a curse when paired with a tiny apartment. A friend of Jinho and Hyojong’s, a recently graduated kid named Hyunggu, comments on this when he visits at the beginning of the summer, when Jinho is out shopping.

 

“You guys got bed frames months ago, they’re huge,” he says, eyeing the two beds sitting close towards the backside of the main room. “And you don’t even have a table. I live  _ alone,  _ and I have nicer furniture.”

 

“Did you just come over to trash our apartment?” Hyojong half-teases, and the smile Hyunggu replies with is only slightly apologetic.

 

“Have you guys really not thought about moving?”

 

Hyojong slouches back against the couch. “Of course we have. We just haven’t...  _ talked _ about it.”

 

“Have you talked about getting your own places?” Hyojong sends him a look like what Hyunggu has just suggested is insane, and the brat laughs. “Yeah, nevermind. You guys are going to be old and grey ahjussis, and still living together in this shoe closet.”

 

“What’s wrong with our shoe closet?” Hyojong questions pointedly, and Hyunggu snorts, not answering.

 

“My complex and the complex across the street from me are pretty nice. You’ve seen my place, but check out Cube Creek sometime, maybe?”

 

Hyojong says he’ll consider it.

 

\---

 

Jinho sits on the couch, their old couch that was his parent’s before it was theirs, considering what Hyojong is saying. He half-smiles.

 

“Hyunggu really sold this idea to you, huh, Jong-ah?”

 

Hyojong shrugs, feeling this was besides the point. “I’ve been thinking about it, too. We’ve had more than enough money for this place for months now, since I got that new job. And since this is where Hyunggu lives, it’s pretty much directly between your work and mine.”

 

Jinho looked contemplative, glancing around the apartment they’d called home for a little over a year now. And then he hesitated, something he was sure Hyojong saw by the way his friend’s expression fell.

 

“Hyung, do you not want to live with me anymore?” Jinho’s head turns to face Hyojong directly, stunned, but the dyed-blonde is picking at the loose strands in his jeans. “It’s fine if you don’t. I get it. There’s no reason for us to live together forever, I know. It doesn’t mean we’re not best friends, so if you want your own place, it’s not a problem. I don’t want you to be stuck with me.”

 

Jinho’s jaw is hanging open in surprise at the mere insinuation, the basic idea of what Hyojong is suggesting. Hyojong looks up and stammers, misreading Jinho’s expression.

 

“I mean,” Hyojong says, awkward and unsure. “I’ve been thinking, Jinho. And I really love spending all this time with you. I’ve never gotten bored of it, even if you’re an ass sometimes and your feet stink like it.” Jinho snickers, covering his mouth and trying to look offended instead, but Hyojong laughs. “I can’t imagine living without you. I’d die in about one month. But if you need your own space, I’ll-”

 

“Hey, Hyojong,” Jinho interrupts, leaning forward over the couch cushions until his hands and chest are against Hyojong’s tucked up knees. He doesn’t think he mistakes the way that Hyojong’s eyes widen, and it gives him some confidence. “Of course I want to keep living with you.”

 

“Oh,” Hyojong says simply, staring at Jinho like he’s waiting for something. It comes in the form of Jinho leaning closer, lifting one of his hands and setting it gently against Hyojong’s cheek, a movement that’s hesitant but Hyojong leans into it to show that it’s okay.

 

“But if we move together,” Jinho says, brushing his thumb over the hollow of Hyojong’s cheek, and Hyojong just barely stops himself from melting on the spot, especially with the way that Jinho is looking at him. “Before we move together, I think you need to know something, so that you don’t regret it-”

 

“Yes,” Hyojong interjects, covering Jinho’s hand with his own, and Jinho wrinkles his forehead in a way that almost makes Hyojong laugh, the confusion nearly audible.

 

“Yes what?” Jinho asks hesitantly, tilting his head.

 

“Tell me what you were going to say,” Hyojong says, leaning forward just slightly, but it’s noticeable enough to Jinho. Hyojong doesn’t want to say it, in case he’s misreading the situation, in case his misunderstanding ruins their friendship or worse, gives Jinho more stress than he deserves.

 

Jinho hesitates, losing his rhythm and his confidence, but takes a deep breath and goes forward with his thought. “I need to make sure you don’t regret staying roommates with me when I really like you.”

 

It had taken him a while to come to the conclusion that his heart had made years ago, maybe from the very start. Kim Hyojong with his wild hair and rebellious attitude and his smile that makes Jinho’s heart swell, and his love for kids and his awful singing voice and his stupid baby talk and his tendency to be too loud and his eyes that draw Jinho in far, too far, but never far enough. It had taken him a while, but admitting it had been even harder.

 

Hyojong’s smile is blinding, even as his eyes show unsureness. As if he doesn’t believe Jinho, somehow, when the older feels he’s been so obvious about it. It makes him annoyed, and he touches their foreheads together, feeling with his body the way that Hyojong breathes in and holds it.

 

“Hyojong, can I kiss you?”

 

The nod is instantaneous, and Jinho doesn’t hesitate.

 

Hyojong’s lips are bitten and chapped, and a little dry, but Jinho still feels like his hair stands on end the moment they start kissing. It’s a short kiss, one that almost meets the definition of chaste, but it’s sweet and the emotions it carries feel like a punch to the chest. Jinho had kissed a few people in the past, and even the more intense kisses hadn’t felt like this one does.

 

He pulls back, not wanting to overwhelm Hyojong; but Hyojong chases his lips just slightly and Jinho laughs at the sight. Hyojong grins sheepishly, any trace of disbelief gone from his expression. It’s fresh, looking at each other like this, with the knowledge they now share. Jinho thinks that he may never stop smiling again.

 

“Let’s check out this Cube Creek place,” he says, pulling out his phone and leaning against Hyojong’s side, and Hyojong’s arm around his shoulders feels like the most natural thing in the world.

 

\---

 

Their new apartment is the most gorgeous thing Hyojong has ever seen, compared to their old apartment. It’s on the ground floor, just to the right of the front door. Inside, there’s carpeted floors and designated areas for separate rooms, including a real bedroom- a definite step up from their living room/bedroom/dining room combo they’d been working with for over a year. Jinho loves the kitchen, and seeing his boyfriend get so excited about appliances is endearing in a sappy way Hyojong had never anticipated. It even has a washer and drier in a closet, so that they don’t have to carry baskets up and down the stairs every day.

 

The apartment manager is a tired but friendly looking young man Jinho’s age, named Lee Hwitaek. They had already met him twice, during the apartment tour and again when signing for the apartment, and in both those times he’d left an impression as a funny, casual guy. He lived in the complex as well, another ground floor apartment, and Hyojong was grateful to already know one neighbor. He and Hwitaek had hit it off instantly, to Jinho’s confusion and amusement. He said he thought it was the bleach leaking into both of their heads. Hyojong had told him that Jinho was still his best friend, and the shorter had blushed.

 

Jinho carries one of the last boxes in, watching Hyojong plug in a lamp in the corner and wash the living room with more soft light. He sits the box onto the coffee table, sure that they’d get around to it eventually, and drops down on their same old couch with a sigh.

 

“This feels like a good choice,” Jinho says, and Hyojong laughs, sitting across from him.

 

“Did you think it wouldn’t be?”

 

“It exceeded my expectations,” Jinho admits, hugging his knees to his chest and smiling sheepishly. “It feels… really homey.”

 

“I get what you mean,” Hyojong agrees, looking around with an expression of awe. “It’s so much better than the old place.”

 

“Luxury,” Jinho snorts, and Hyojong makes a similar noise.

 

“A palace,” he says exaggeratedly, leaning back against the arm of the couch. “perfect for a prince.”

 

Jinho rolls his eyes, humored. “I’m not a prince.”

 

“I meant me,” Hyojong says flatly, and Jinho covers his mouth to conceal an ugly laugh. Hyojong’s facade cracks only slightly. “You’re more like a jester, or something. I keep you around because you’re short and funny.”

 

Jinho smacks his hand against Hyojong’s knee reprimandingly. “Brat!” Hyojong makes a sound of complaint and rubs at his knee, while Jinho tries to wipe his smile from his features. He doesn’t try very hard.

 

Hyojong reaches out and gathers Jinho against his chest before leaning back again, and Jinho doesn’t fight, comfortable. Everything about this is unbelievably comfortable, from the rise and fall on Hyojong's chest to the sagging of the old couch to the distant hum on the air conditioning.

 

There's a sharp thud up above, followed by the sound of breaking glass, and Jinho and Hyojong meet eyes.

  
“Can’t wait to meet the neighbors,” Jinho says lamely, and the weary grin he gets in return is fitting.

**Author's Note:**

> [my listography!](http://listography.com/jinhoes?m=6404158689)
> 
>  
> 
> yell at me about ptg and my writing on [my twitter](https://twitter.com/jin_hoes) or [my tumblr](http://jin-hoes.tumblr.com)


End file.
